A squarely built, snub-nosed native, not very dark skinned but very ugly--his right ear slit, and almost all of his left ear missing--without any of the brass or iron wire ornaments that most of the natives of the land affect, but possessed of a Harris tweed shooting jacket and, of all unexpected things, boots that he carried slung by the laces from his neck-waited for us, squatting with a note addressed to Fred tied in a cleft stick.
It does not pay to wax enthusiastic over natives, even when one suspects they bring good news.

We took the letter from him, told him to wait, and went on in.

Once out of the man's hearing Fred tore the letter open and read it aloud to us.
"Herewith my Kazimoto," it ran.

"Be good to him.

It occurred to me that you might not care after all to linger in Nairobi, and it seemed hardly fair to keep the boy from getting a good job simply because he could make me comfortable for the remainder of a week.